


Mystrade 30 Day OTP Challenge

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dating, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Going off <a href="http://30dayotpchallenge.deviantart.com/journal/30-Day-OTP-Challenge-LIST-325248585">this</a> list. Not sure if these will all work with writing, but I'm a gonna try.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Going off [this](http://30dayotpchallenge.deviantart.com/journal/30-Day-OTP-Challenge-LIST-325248585) list. Not sure if these will all work with writing, but I'm a gonna try.

Mycroft Holmes wasn't used to crowded spaces. His life was carefully constructed with personal cars and private entrances. There was little reason he should find himself rubbing elbows and shoulders in a packed throng of people.

But here he was. Because Greg wanted to go to the match and insisted that Mycroft see the game from the stands like a _normal_ person. He was already calculating how he could make the Inspector pay for this later. The crowd pushed and pulled and he found himself gripping his umbrella tightly. He might not be in a suit, but that at least he carry without standing out too much.

Suddenly, Greg's hand was in his, warm and solid and comforting, pulling him through the crowd. They came out the other side and Greg smiled at him. "All right?"

Mycroft gave a tight nod. Greg kept hold of his hand as they made their way to their seats, glaring at anyone that gave them a second look. He settled Mycroft and smiled at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." And Mycroft did mean it. He could see how happy Greg was to have him here. Even though they were no longer in a crowd, Mycroft kept hold of Greg's hand as he sat close next to him.


	2. Day 2 - Cuddling Somewhere

Greg and Mycroft didn’t always share a bed. Work schedules and crazy hours and keeping up appearances meant that they were both glad for a few nights a week curled up in one another’s arms. On this particular night, Mycroft had come in late from a trip overseas and walked into Greg’s flat just as he was getting ready for bed.

After a kiss hello, Greg had handed him the spare pyjamas he kept for him and they went straight to bed. Holding him, Greg watched him fall asleep before closing his own eyes. But he slept lightly and in the wee hours he was awakened by a soft whimper. “Hey, it’s okay,” said Greg softly, kissing Mycroft’s forehead and soothing his hands down his back until finally the blue eyes opened cautiously.

He searched Greg’s face for a long moment, then they closed again with a sigh. Greg gathered him against his his chest and kissed the top of his head. Mycroft curled tightly around him. Of course the official couldn’t say anything, even if he wanted to. Greg simply held him, toying with the hairs at the nape of Mycroft’s neck until he felt the other man’s breathing start to slow again.

Greg kissed the top of his head and smiled against his skin, glad to be the safe place Mycroft Holmes could cling to.


	3. Day 3 Gaming/Watching a Movie

"Really, Gregory?" Mycroft looked at the controller in his lover's hand. 

"Yes, really. I have to be able to at least compete with my daughter a little bit when she comes for a visit." Greg offered him the controller.

Rolling his eyes, Mycroft took it from him and perched on the edge of the couch. Greg smiled and started the game. Mycroft stayed silent as they began, watching the characters on the screen. Greg chuckled as he snuck around a corner and got his first kill.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and his eyes narrowed in that way that would normally send people scurrying for cover. Greg's tongue parked in the corner of his mouth as he edged around the respawn point.

Suddenly it was Greg's character that was dead. He blinked and looked at Mycroft.

"That is the objective, isn't it?" asked Mycroft blandly.

"You know it is you smug bastard," growled Greg, watching his character respawn. He tried to move carefully, only to be killed again.

"Okay, that's it, we're going to go take out some out teenagers." Greg cancelled the map.

"Remember, Gregory, it was your suggestion we play." A smile danced across his lips.

"God save me from the competitivness of Holmeses." Greg leaned in and kissed him.

Mycroft kissed him back. "I do believe you suggested obliterating the egos of young people?"

"I did indeed." Greg grinned as he started it up again.


	4. Day 4 - On a Date

“Happy anniversary, love,” Greg offered the flowers to Mycroft as he answered the door.

“Thank you,” Mycroft said, taking them and pulling Greg inside to give him a short kiss. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call a car?” he asked as he took them into the kitchen to get them in a vase with water.

“I’m perfectly capable of driving us to a restaurant. Even was as fancy as you no doubt booked.” Greg leaned on the doorframe and watched him, smiling.

“You’ll love the food,” promised Mycroft, stealing another kiss before grabbing his umbrella on the way out the door.

They only got halfway there when a tire blew out. Cursing, Greg pulled the car to the side of the road and looked at the steady drizzle in the failing lite. Of course said fancy restaurant was out in the country and they hadn’t seen anyone on this road in miles.

“I’ll call…” started Mycroft, pulling out his mobile.

“Nope, I’m perfectly capable of changing a tyre,” said Greg, taking off his suit coat and getting out before Mycroft could argue. He opened the trunk as it started raining harder and pulled out the spare and the lift. As he crouched down the car door opened and closed and he looked up to find Mycroft standing over him with the open umbrella.

Greg gave him a small smile and got to work. It had been a while, but he was glad to know he remembered. It took a little longer than he would have liked, but it was changed and the blown was tossed in the trunk. When he got back in the driver’s seat, Mycroft was already on his mobile.

“No point calling, it’s already changed.” Greg started the car and turned up the heat, brushing wet hair from his eyes.

“Oh I know. I just cancelled the dinner reservation. There’s a rather nice bed and breakfast, and it’s closer.” Mycroft leaned in to kiss him again. “The restaurant wouldn’t let you in like that.”

Greg looked down and realized that not only was he more than a bit damp, but there was a dark streak of dirt and grease across the front of his white shirt. Mycroft reached over and pulled his tie free. 

“We don’t have any spare clothes,” said Greg, then got a wicked grin on his face. “Don’t suppose that would be a problem though, would it?”

“I’d imagine not,” said Mycroft with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll give you the directions as we go.”


	5. Day 5 - Kissing

Greg loved all of Mycroft’s kisses. The minty kisses before bed, the sleepy morning kisses that never failed to start his day off right. There was the quick peck on the way out the door and slow kisses on the couch after a long day of work. And of course the passionate kisses with one pressing the other against the wall or the sofa or the bed.

Right now they were both in the kitchen making dinner on a lazy weekend afternoon with a bottle of wine. Mycroft handed Greg the spices and kissed his shoulder. Smiling, Greg added them in, checked the broth, and set the whole concoction to simmer before turning in his lover’s arms. “We’ve got about an hour for it to simmer.”

Mycroft didn’t respond, just cupped the back of his head and kissed him. Greg kissed back, tasting the wine on his soft lips as he backed him towards the table. He sat without breaking the kiss and pulled Mycroft down into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

Humming softly, Mycroft parted his mouth further. Greg kissed him slowly, savoring, wondering if he could make the kisses last until the food was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote at work...then forgot to send it to myself, so I rewrote it. Sorry this one's short.


	6. Day 6 - Wearing Each Others Clothes

It had been a very long day at work. Greg took a hot shower, lost in his thoughts. He should ring up Mycroft, have him come over, some takeaway, a movie… He finally shut the water off and stepped out, toweling off his hair. To his surprise, his clothes were gone from the counter, except for only a single button up shirt. Raising an eyebrow he picked it up and sniffed the collar. Mycroft. Of course.

Wondering what was up, he pulled it on and buttoned it most of the way up. Stepping into the front room, he froze in place. 

Mycroft was adjusting the record player, wearing one of Greg’s rattiest old concert t-shirts. He turned and grinned at Greg as music that took him way back poured out of the speakers. Matching Mycroft’s grin, he grabbed the waistcoat from the back of the couch and pulled it on. It wouldn’t button, but that was okay as he went to his lover and pulled him into a fast dance, still knowing every word of the song.

To his surprise, Mycroft knew the words too and they soon flopped on the couch with cheap takeout and beer, talking about uni and younger days and when the sky had been the limit and the world at their feet.


	7. Cosplaying

Greg let Mycroft into the flat. He smiled as he looked Mycroft up and down. “James Bond?”

Mycroft adjusted his bow tie. “No. Professor Lazurus. _The Lazarus Experiment_?”

Greg shook his head. “Going for the obscure Doctor who villains, okay.”

“Well who are you supposed to be. A big game hunter? Alan Quartermain?”

“John Riddell. _Dinosaurs on a Spaceship_?”

“That’s Eleventh Doctor isn’t it?” sniffed Mycroft.

“Still Doctor Who. Come on, we’ll be late for the con.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am such a nerd. And yes those are their Doctor Who characters.


	8. Day 8 - Shopping

Greg chuckled and picked up the bag from the counter. “Few more stops?”

Mycroft looked at the list. “Almost done, Gregory. Mummy always is precise in what she wants.”

Shaking his head, Greg bit back the comment about the apple and the tree and followed his lover.

They went into the next store, Greg juggling packages, Mycroft glancing at a message on his mobile. While Mycroft was occupied, Greg snagged a chocolate bar, and offered it to him on the way out.

“I can wait for dinner you know,” Mycroft took it from him and opened it anyway.

“Of course you can,” Greg smiled. “You make the reservations? You owe me good for being your pack mule.”

“Indeed.” Mycroft gave him an appraising look. “However, at least you are a handsome mule.”

Greg laughed. “Come on, you git. Let’s get this done so we can get to dinner and _my_ dessert.”

“Let’s drop these off first. I would hate to scandalize mummy.”


	9. Hanging out with Friends

“Happy Birthday!” Greg accepted the hug from Molly, grinning ear to ear as they occupied a corner of a pub. Everyone from the Yard was here, John had even dragged Sherlock along. The only one missing was Mycroft, but he knew how his lover was with crowds and trying to keep their relationship quiet, so he’d already accepted the fact that he most likely wouldn’t come.

Still it would have been nice.

He accepted another drink from Sally, relaxing as John and Anderson started a game of darts. Sherlock glowered in the corner, but that was par for the course. Molly and Sally talked and he couldn’t help but enjoy the company.

The only warning was Sherlock sitting up, glowering. Greg’s smile turned more genuine as Mycroft came in, shaking the rain from his umbrella.

Coming in, Mycroft came to Greg’s seat, standing awkwardly in front of him. Sally got up and dropped money in the jukebox. Getting up, Greg took Mycroft’s hand and led him to the dance floor as she picked something fast. Mycroft, as always, met him step for step.


	10. With Animal Ears

Predators and prey didn’t mix. This was common wisdom. A relationship between the two would only end in tears, if not worse. But Greg Lestrade, who’d been born of the wolf, had never met a more formidable rabbit then Mycroft Holmes. And Mycroft Holmes, with his stately ears standing tall, had never met a more gentle wolf then Gregory Lestrade.

Greg could tell by the turn of Mycroft’s ears that he was pleased. The day had gone well, then, the secret negotiations Greg knew nothing about. He watched his lover remove his suit coat and carefully roll up his sleeves as he came into the kitchen, eying the bubbling pot on the stove.

“Almost done, love.” Greg smiled. Wolves were not often known as good cooks either, but Mycroft had nothing but praise for him. After giving the pot a stir, he turned and kissed him.

Mycroft scratched just behind the silver ears, making Greg kick involuntarily. He chuckled as Greg pulled away.

“Oi, watch it or you won’t get any supper.” Greg waved the spoon at him.

Smiling, Mycroft fetched the wine and set the table for stew. Greg put the finishing touches and served it out, watching for the warm smile that would tell him Mycroft approved. 

The rabbit took a few very proper tastes. “Excellent,” he said, favoring him with that smile.

Greg relaxed and started in on his own supper. Mycroft’s stew had a bit more veg and Greg’s had a bit more meat. But that was the way things were with them and if anyone were to question how these two were together, well, Mycroft would fix them with his withering glare and Greg would hold his arm and that would be all the answer they would get.


	11. Wearing Kigurumis

Mycroft stopped short as he came into Greg’s flat. “Gregory...you are dressed as a cow.”

Adjusting the hood, Greg turned towards him with a smile. “Glad to know Sherlock isn’t the only observant one. My daughter’s kindergarten class is having a thing.”

“Indeed.” Mycroft looked at him a few moments longer. “Didn’t have a bull costume?”

“Figured you could wear that one.”

Mycroft’s eyes went wide. “Oh dear, I do believe there’s another invasion of Afghanistan to plan.”

Greg turned towards him and kissed him. “Never get involved in a land war in Asia,” he quoted with a smile.

“And never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line,” answered Mycroft. “Still I think I…”

“She’ll be disappointed if you don’t come.” Greg put the costume in his hands.

With a put upon sigh, Mycroft took it from him. “I can only assume the choice of costume means I’ll be topping tonight?”

“Moo,” said Greg, smacking him with his tail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know...


	12. Making Out

Mycroft cupped Greg’s cheek and cut him off with a deep kiss. Greg moaned against his lips and Mycroft pressed him against the arm of the couch, running his hands up his strong chest. Greg tasted faintly of coffee and smelled of his office, paperwork with an undercurrent of sweat.

Greg’s hands on his hips, pulling him closer, brought him more firmly into the present. Greg was taking control of the kiss, tongue pressing into his mouth, promising to go as far as Mycroft wanted. It send a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

Kissing Gregory like this...it was like being seventeen again, with all the time in the world and no pressing worries around them. Greg moaned softly against him, shifting him closer. There was no pressing need to go farther, do more than enjoy the feel and the taste of one another. One of Greg’s hands reached up and ran through his thin hair before cupping his cheek.

At long last they broke for air, panting against one another’s lips. Greg kissed him softly and smiled at him with those warm eyes full of all tenderness. Anyone who saw the way he looked at Gregory now would be shocked at the thaw in the iceman’s heart.


	13. Eating Ice Cream

“I’m on a diet, Gregory,” Mycroft stared wide eyed at the concoction delivered to their table.

“You’re beautiful. And always on a diet.” Greg picked up on the spoons and got a spoonful of the ice cream and offered it to him.

“I’m not hungry.” Mycroft eyed.

“Yes you are. Don’t make me do the airplane.” Greg smiled at him.

With a long suffering roll of his eyes, Mycroft leaned in and eat the ice cream off the spoon, rewarded by an even broader grin. “It is quite good.”

Greg ate his own spoonful. “Come on, help eat it.”

With a soft smile and a sigh, Mycroft picked up the other spoon and got to work.


	14. Genderswap

Lestrade ran her hands through her short hair. "When my parents named me Grey I didn't think it would be a prophecy."

Mycroft appeared behind her and put her elegant hands on her shoulders. "They named you Greylin and you're beautiful"

Grey turned in her arms and kissed her "Easy for you to say." Mycroft's red hair was perfectly coiffed as always, her suit accentuating her hips. Grey’s fingers found the buttons of her shirt and started on them as she watched with a lick of her lips.

Mycroft took Grey’s hands and brought her fingers to her lips, kissing each and every one. “Beautiful,” she said a little more insistently.


	15. Wearing a different clothing style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had little idea what to do with this one....

“Come on,” said Greg, towel thrown over his shoulder. He was standing in board shorts and flip flops, waiting for Mycroft to come out of the changing room so they could hit the beach proper.

“I can’t merely throw my clothes into my bag,” grumbled Mycroft throw the door.

“Next time just wear a t-shirt to the beach. I promise My, it won’t kill you.”

The door opened and Greg’s next comment stopped in his throat at the sight of Mycroft Holmes in a speedo that somehow hugged his hips perfectly and matched his pale skin tone.

“You’re _gorgeous_ said Greg, staring at him.

A small smile tweaked Mycroft’s lips. “Come along Gregory, or we’ll never make the beach.”


End file.
